By a Templar's Side
by AssassinSuzy
Summary: - Rated T, for now! Mature stuff coming up in later chapters, Haytham x OC - Life was good. If not too good at times. Annora led a peaceful but lonely life on the outskirts of New York until Charles Lee appeared on her doorstep, bringing back not only the painful memories of their past, but a dying stranger who will show her a different side of love. One she never met before.
1. I - An Unexpected Visitor

Hello Everyone,

This is my first _published _Fanfiction story, so please be nice if I do make some mistakes. I edited this + reviewed it to make sure it's the best it can be, but I will eagerly accept critique and tips on improvement! =^^=

I have chapters written already, so tell me if you like this one, and I will publish more :3

This story does contain AC3 ending spoilers so please read **only** if you have completed the game **or** don't really care and just want to read something ^^''

Disclaimer: Any Assassin's Creed character's used in this fanfic **are not mine**, they belong to Ubisoft. The images used for the cover are also not mine, I have just edited them and added text (and bright colors) to make it nice. So they are not mine.

**Enjoy and thank you so much in advance for reading! . I apologise for the long intro above!**

_**- AssassinSuzy :)**_

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**_By a Templar's Side_**

_'The course of true love never did run smooth' – William Shakespeare  
_

_**I**_

_Sunday 16th September 1781 – Afternoon_

Annora was a timid girl. She preferred her secluded confinement in the comfort of her rose garden, where she could, despite the constant telling-off she received for it in her younger days, read and learn; her most enjoyed pastime. _'You're a woman for goodness sake! Get your nose out of those books and into the kitchen!'_

She smirked under her breath, all that learning got her somewhere. At least she had a home of her own, not to mention the income she received for her artwork! Life was good, comfortable, if not too good at times. She directed her strong emerald eyes to the cottage that stood by the garden, her pale lips turned at the corners into a sad smile. She felt her hands intertwine awkwardly as she struggled to pull herself together. It still felt lonely, no matter how busy you were. Living on the outskirts of New York, you would see a soul pass by only every few days, and it felt so long since she actually visited her mother and sisters. She felt lonely, and the heavy burden of said loneliness felt the worst at moments like these. The cottage was a small and cosy stone house, decorated with the ever-growing moss and the damp air of deterioration that surrounded it ever since she came to live there. She hastily got up, brushing her summer dress down, and approached the doors. The sun was too much for her. The all too familiar kitchen revealed itself, shrouded with the nostalgic smell of chocolate muffins and the annoying sound of creaking wood beneath her feet. She closed the door quietly and decided to spend the rest of the burning afternoon re-reading one of the books in her vast collection. She proceeded to make some tea and took a quick glance in the mirror that was barely sitting straight on the wall. Her rusty locks bounced as she checked for the first visible signs of sunburn, and her expression turned from observant to wide-eyed in a matter of seconds when she saw the door creaking open. The sudden silence broke when she heard the heavy breathing of whoever was invading her home and the loud noise their boots were making against her weak floorboards.

"Who's there?", she asked nervously, "has anyone ever taught you how to knock?", she added when the figure set foot in her home. It took her a few seconds to register who has just entered the house and with what, or rather whom, thrown over his bulky shoulders.

"Charles? Charles Lee! Is that you?", she ran towards him and allowed him to take a seat on the armchair she quickly readied for him. He only half-smiled, hardly breathing. He dumped the body on a nearby lounge chair as carefully as he could and hastily took a seat on the dark leather armchair, taking a few seconds to calm himself.

"Ann, yes it's me", he gazed up at her with blood-shot eyes, "you have no idea how glad I am to see you". She stared at him for a moment and then looked over at what he brought in. Her eyes widened furthermore and she slapped her forehead, then started speed-walking around frantically, panicking and raising her hands up, rather annoyed.

"Who's that?", her voice hitched. "He's not dead is he?", before the dark-haired man could respond she came up with her own conclusions. "I know you're involved with that whole 'Templar' business, but, don't try to get me to take the blame for murdering-"

"It's not like that, listen to me". She gave him a hard stare, her eyes searching his own dark ones for an answer. She scanned his ivory face, his graying black hair and messy beard. He evidently aged since she saw him a few years ago. His expression was deadly serious.

"I know you didn't want to see me – after what had happened – but can we forget that for a moment?", he avoided her gaze but knew she wouldn't have the heart to decline. She simply nodded, her hands clenching into fists.

"This man," he pointed to the man lying on the lounge, directing her eyes to the figure once again, "he is my mentor from the order, and he made me promise to find him somewhere to recover if he ever found himself in a situation such as this", he took a breath. Her hands landed on her hips unhappily.

"And instead of an inn, I'm somehow the good Samaritan and my _house _has suddenly turned into a hospital?", her voice was stern but wavering, he knew exactly why she was acting like this, putting on her 'tough independent woman' disguise on. She was very bad at lying.

"I wouldn't have brought him here if I thought you couldn't help him, Ann", his sorrowful eyes met hers again. She brought one hand up to her temple, guilt already tying itself around her heart.

"I know, I just- I'm sorry, I'm not used to having people _stay _over, and moreover helping them medically, I don't know if I can do it", her eyes tore from his and glided over to the injured man. She approached him and turned him over. His breathing was slow and shallow, he wasn't conscious either. Compassion and reason battled each other in the recesses of her mind.

"Please, for as long as you can, he is a sought out man, I cannot let him die", Charles was gripped with fear for the first time in his life. "I cannot let his work go in vain", his voice was sharp and determined, persuasive.

"What about his wounds? They're very serious, I can't fix them up", she took a heavy breath, "he's dying Charles, and suffering", she paused as she noticed how distraught he was.

"I hired a doctor who's on his way", he gritted through his teeth. They gazed at each other for the longest time while the small woman thought everything through. Meddling in the Templar-Assassin war would get her nowhere, and there were many risks involved. But on the other hand, she wouldn't forgive herself if she let the man die, her conscience would never even let her forget how she didn't attempt to help him or the image of the man's peaceful and well contoured face, nearing his end by the hour. She suddenly let out a sigh and closed her eyes for a few seconds, making sure she was making the right decision.

"He can take the spare bed upstairs, you're lucky I have one", she smiled faintly at Charles, who's reaction more than surprised her. She found herself inside his firm and thankful embrace, lasting less than half of a minute and leaving her awfully flushed.

"I am in your debt Ann", he beamed as she regained her composure and after a minute or so followed him as he took the man upstairs and laid him down on the spare bed. The stone walls of the bedroom were covered with ivory paint and the floor matched the one downstairs. Annora's neatly made bed rested on the right with the spare bed opposite next to the window. Further on, a small wooden wardrobe stood right next to a dark ebony vanity table and a small cushioned chair. In the corner piles of materials were scattered around accompanied by a few clean canvases and sets of brushes. Charles looked around, the familiar room hasn't changed at all, however the walls were decorated with paintings which he has never seen before.

"I'll hold onto that promise", she smiled, grabbing the tiny chair from the vanity table and pulling it next to the bed, gently sitting on it. He gave her a warm grin, an expression only she could get out of his usually cruel and vicious character, as he crouched down beside her.

"It always smells of muffins in your house Ann", he said quietly, as if trying to change the subject, hint the past. What has been and how good life was. She was about to respond when he got up abruptly and for a mere second or two put his hand on her head and ran it through her soft hair.

"I must go, treat him as much as your skill allows you, I will be back in a week", with those words, Charles Lee stepped downstairs, shut the wooden doors behind him, and was gone as fast as he arrived, leaving Annora in dominating confusion, which would not leave her for the rest of the day.

After pacing around the room for more than five minutes, struggling to figure out exactly what is going on, Annora grabbed a jug, ceramic bowl and as much bandages and towels as she could find. Sweat slowly dripped down her neck as she poured some water into the jug from the tiny well in her garden. She hurried upstairs and filled the bowl with water, all in the matter of literally life-saving minutes.

"Okay, cleaning up wounds means first getting to them, meaning I will have to-", her eyebrows shot up and panic appeared in her once calm eyes, followed by a hot rush of blood to her cheeks. "Take his garments off", her voice died down as she stuttered. Her hands were now shaking and a stench of blood seeped through the room as she undid his tight and navy blue trench coat. Slowly pushing it to the sides, she now discovered the next step of her difficult journey. One by one she undid the buttons and hooks, filtering through layers of expensive waistcoats to finally see his white flannel shirt, soaked in the red liquid. Her hands were trembling by this stage, her face red covered with embarrassment, "if my mother saw me, she would get a heart attack", she muttered. Her fingers reached the top button and unhooked it carefully, then the next one. And the one after that, until slowly the sight of a trained and magnificent chest came into view, somehow causing the back of her mind to urge her to hurry up. When she finished she moved the sides of the shirt apart to revel in the long-awaited sight of the man's chest. "Ann, what on earth are you doing?", she cursed. She was never like this, the normal and timid Ann would never take delight in undoing a man's shirt and staring at it as if it was some sort of painting. "Oh but it is! A painting, a landscape full of ridges and hills", her hand nervously reached out to feel the said ridges. "So smooth, as if oil paints were delicately applied with as much care as was needed", her artistic side took over unexpectedly before she snapped herself back to reality.

_"Pull yourself together young lady!"_, she could hear her mother's voice cursing at her in her own mind. As she dipped a clean cloth in the bowl of water she inspected the man's features – other than his chest – observing his peaceful comatose expression. His face was strong and slender, showing few if any signs of ageing and wrinkles. His eyelids were adorned with long eyelashes but nonetheless his face almost painted out his character, a serious and focused man, full of authority and power.

"A Templar huh'?", the young woman let out a sigh. Remembering Lee's desperate reaction to the man's circumstances she thoughtfully added, directing her words at the unconscious man, "Charles must have really respected you if he allowed himself to keep an _actual_ promise", the time when he broke the promise made to her flew back into her mind and she scoffed. That sacred promise, said breaking of it destroyed the trust she had in him. Moreover remembering the consequences shattered her heart even more. But, that was long ago, too long to keep dwelling on it. Annora carefully took her time cleaning up the mortal wounds and, despite the heavy bleeding, she had to admit she did a pretty good job. She lifted the man up slightly with all the power she had and took his stained garments to the side, deciding on washing them later. She propped up the man's pillow and covered him with the cotton sheets before taking a final glance at him. A loud knock downstairs ripped her compassionate gaze from the half-dead man and she hurried down, the wooden stairs creaking beneath her feet like never before. She turned the handle and opened the door slightly to have a look at the finely dressed man who stood before her. An older gentleman with a large satchel by his side and a long, almost white, mustache. He greeted her rather seriously and in obvious haste.

"Miss Collet if I'm correct?"

"Yes, what's the matter?"

"I'm a doctor hired by Mr. Lee, I'm supposed to have a look at a gentleman who is under your care?"

"Ah! Yes please do come in!", she hurried the man inside and motioned for him to follow her upstairs into the small bedroom. He sat at the side of the bed and his expression faltered, sinking heavily.

"I will do what I can, as I can already see you have cleaned the wounds", he admitted and she nodded silently. He took out his various medical instruments and poured alcohol over the wound. She watched in pain as the blood and flesh sizzled. Half an hour passed by, then another half. The doctor turned to her, removing his gloves and packing his things, sighing heavily.

"I've done all that is in my power, cleaned and patched up the wounds, removed a bullet or two", she gasped, "bandage him up if you can Miss, but", he gave her an apologetic look before turning away. "I doubt he can survive the night with wounds as mortal as these. It would be a miracle if he made it by morning". She could not help but whimper silently at the grim news, it was sad to see someone die. Even if that someone was a complete stranger.

"Thank you Doctor", she ushered him downstairs and towards the door.

"You take care Miss", he smiled as he left, her expression breaking like glass. Then the thought of Charles' reaction caused her to whimper once again. She didn't want him to feel the pain of loss, loss of someone you care about, someone who has changed you, whether for the better or for the worse. She tiredly made her way upstairs again, taking the cup of cold tea she had made for herself hours before with her. She sat on the armchair by the bed and gazed sadly at the sleeping man for what seemed like forever.

_"I doubt he can survive the night"_

Despite her efforts, her eyes welled up and she rested her arms on the bed, burying her face in it, hoping to stop the tears, to stop weeping for a stranger, whose name she didn't even know. A few minutes passed and she bolted up, took the bandages and proceeded to cover the man's wounds.

"Might as well make what you can out of your last hours right?", she chuckled, but the laughter was cracking in despair. She sat back down and gazed out of the window at the setting sun and its beautiful horizon. She folded her arms on the bed once again, resting her cheek against them, watching the weak movement of the mans chest as it moved up and down with every breath he took.

"I was never this close to a man before, even Charles, he-", her voice cracked again. "Whatever you have done, you shouldn't have been killed, not like this at least", she admitted, despite knowing that he was a Templar. That he wasn't a good man.

"Please, I don't want to see another person die", she took a breath, "please". She watched the sun go down completely but she could not fall asleep, muttering 'please' over and over again, resting by his side and praying for a miracle. In the end her eyes, exhausted as much as she was, gave way and she fell into a deep and mournful sleep.

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Hope you all enjoyed, please leave a favorite if you did, and a review if you would like more. It really helps! **Thank you :) **


	2. II - Survival

Hello once again Readers!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and favorited/followed the first chapter. I'm very thankful and happy with the support! =^^= Soooo, here's another chapter!

This story **does **contain spoilers however the ending of AC3 is altered by me so they might not seem very obvious :P

Disclaimer: Any Assassin's Creed character's used in this fanfic **are not mine**, **they belong to Ubisoft.** The images used for the cover are also **not** mine.

_II - Survival - Annora expects the death of the stranger brought to her house by Charles Lee, however what will unfold when the man wakes up in the middle of the night? _

**I hope you Enjoy! :D ****- _AssassinSuzy_**

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**_II_**

_'Goodbye Father'_

_'I should have killed you long ago'_

___Monday 17th September_

Images flooded his mind as he shot up from a dreadful dream full of blood and pain. His memories began spinning around and it took him a few seconds to verify the credibility of the previous events. Connor.

"I'm, I'm alive?", he whispered as he grasped at his neck, feeling something soft under his fingers. A bandage. He looked around the room suspiciously, his vision clouded with darkness, but the thing that disturbed him the most was the small figure that laid beside him. He pressed his hands to his chest and further discovered how he was covered in bandages. He was supposed to die.

"I shouldn't be alive". Suddenly, his hands started to tremble and a heavy sweat ran through him. He realized how weak he was and decided to lay back down, unintentionally causing the figure beside him to sway from side to side and wake up. Annora rubbed her sleepy eyes and the events of the previous day came back to her, automatically making her turn her gaze to the man, who was staring intently at her, his expression confused, weak and pained. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"You're awake!", she almost screamed. She got up abruptly and hurried to the bedside table, lighting a candle which immediately illuminated the room, the man still watching her.

"You saved me", he whispered. She heard his deep voice, sensual and silvery, even in times of great weakness and pain. She dipped a cloth in a large bowl of cold water, squeezing it out and carefully placing it on his forehead.

"You must rest, you still have a fever, sir". He smiled politely at her kindness, taking in the gleaming color of her bright and liquid eyes, her only visible feature in this weak amount of light.

"I'm going to die aren't I?", he asked rhetorically. The question literally broke her.

"Don't say that", she muttered back. "Charles doesn't want you dead".

"You know Charles?", he inquired, his voice sounded extremely sophisticated, reflecting upon his age. Her smile turned into a look of sadness and regret.

"My Father knew his, I-, it's a long story"

"Nonetheless he should realize he is going to die as well", he stated tonelessly. Her eyebrows shot up and gave him a pained look.

"What? But who is-"

"My son did this to me", before letting her go angry and confused he continued, "as I have expected him to", he turned to her and smiled. Her lips came apart in slight shock and just as she was about to say something he cut in. "Do not fear, I was supposed to die, and if I do, my loss will not be in vain".

"How can you say that? No one is _supposed _to die", she hissed, almost letting out a stifled laugh. He gazed deeply into her stubborn eyes. "We are the makers of our fate". He in turn felt like smirking kindheartedly at how passionate she was about his survival and how much she wanted him to live on.

"You really don't want me to die do you Miss...", he searched her for a name.

"Annora", she looked away, not wanting to agree with his remark, however knowing he was right. She did want him to live, no matter if he felt like he had to or not.

"We all have our young days of freedom, ideals and hopes, Annora", a cloud of his own experience and intelligence shrouded her, overtaking her previous strong and clever façade. "But the world shapes our future whether you like it or not". He took a breath, that sentence must have caused him great discomfort. She placed her hand on the warmed up towel that rested on his forehead, attempting to replace it when she felt his strong hand grasp her wrist.

"Let the future take it's course", he whispered. She looked at him, her wrist warming up from the contact.

"I won't let you die", she stubbornly gritted through her teeth. His lack of faith shocked her, but a sense of great respect overcame her when she noticed just how well he was embracing and accepting his end. She got out of his grip and proceeded to replace the towel on his burning forehead.

"You're suffering, and yet you can still speak great words", she said calmly. Her eyes welled up but she pushed the tears aside as she turned around and added quietly, "My Father, he was killed, I watched him die, he was the one who encouraged me, who had faith in me", the tears appeared again. The man watched her back tremble in fear of her own memories.

"He was my _mentor_, he told me to understand that his death was for a greater cause, but tell me, what cause is greater than being with your child?", she almost shouted through tears. The man remembered how his actions were the same, his priority was his work, chosen over his own son. Guilt ran through him.

"But then I understood what he meant, he died to protect me, but when I finally appreciated the meaning of his words, it was too late", she carried on through tears. The man lifted his arm weakly and took hold of her soft palm. She turned and sat on the edge of the chair in despair, grabbing the man's hand with both of hers and putting it to her forehead. He rested his hand on her head, feeling her soft hair, his face turned to face her, his eyes full of compassion for the first time in his life.

"I never even got the chance to tell him I loved him", she finished. He then understood why she fought so much for his life, and why _he _should start fighting for it as well.

"I, I understand Annora", he whispered and she looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with hope. Suddenly he groaned loudly, clutching at his chest.

"Are you alright?!", she was immediately by his side, not even realizing her hands were on his chest. He gazed up at her and her cheeks heated up, he saw right through her as if she were an open book. She could see his crow's-feet wrinkle when he smiled, unable to avoid this expression when he gazed at her flushed cheeks, her glittering eyes and her full and puffy rosy lips. He reached his hand out painfully to grasp the ribbon that tied his graying hair into a short ponytail.

"If I die Annora, please take this", he pulled the ribbon and swiftly handed it to her, causing her to lift her soft palms off his chest, to his slight disappointment. Her eyes welled up, her façade completely broken through once again.

"As a piece of me, to remind you of the man who you have saved from an _uncomfortable _death", he smiled again, half jokingly half seriously. He isn't a Templar, he can't be the one they called the 'Cruel Grand Master', the one who her father planned to-

"Ow!", his groan broke her trail of thoughts. She held his hand tightly, tears reflecting the candlelight, she was kneeling before the bed now, realizing she had to at least _attempt _to show strength. To accept what this stranger was going through, this stranger she felt she knew for thousands of years.

"I don't even know you", she faked an empty laugh. She then looked down at his hand, his age suddenly shining through his robust character. "But I still find myself caring, still find myself-"

"Why?", he asked. She looked up at him awkwardly and almost scoffed, thinking he was mocking her. "I-I never prioritized my feelings over my work, over the good of my order, over the achievement of our goals"

"Do you have any regrets?", she whispered, somehow broken-hearted at his lack of emotions, empathy or the simple act of caring.

"I wish I didn't, but, I do", her gaze pressed him on as if to ask him for an example.

"I regret leaving my sons mother, had I embraced my love for her rather than letting it be destroyed nothing like this would happen, everything would have turned out differently", his expression showed some signs of sorrow, of him imagining all the possibilities. Annora felt her heart clench and then inwardly scoffed at her own idiocy, he was an older gentleman, of course he would have fallen in love, had a child, he was mature. Unlike her in some aspects. And then she focused of why she felt like that in the first place, she didn't even know his name. _'Did the lack of a man in your life finally get to your head?"_, her mother chanted. She was the one who always encouraged her to pursue marriage rather than books. She could now see how much that _lack_ had an effect on her.

"Well now that I got over my regrets, I can die peacefully right?", he hastily gave her a satisfied smile. She scoffed out loud this time. He suddenly discovered how he ignored her confession of caring moments before and felt horribly guilty when he saw the effect it had on her soft expression.

"Would you care for some tea?", she decided to dismiss her feelings and hide back under her cover, afraid to get hurt even more. His attempt to bring himself to words in order to fix the situation were faltered by her sudden proposal.

"Tea would do me good, please do"

"Will be back in a moment then", she muttered and turned, disappearing through the tiny corridor. He heard timber stairs creaking under her heavy footsteps and proceeded to slap his forehead as softly as he could, almost sneering at his own stupidity. He let her get away after she broke down her barrier to a _complete _stranger, without even muttering a 'thank you' or nodding and smiling, out of sheer politeness, which he seemed to suddenly lack.

"Way to go Haytham", he mumbled to himself. He laid his head comfortably, gazing up at the ceiling. "I was never _that _good with women, but now I certainly can't die in peace". After a few minutes he heard her carefully climbing back up the stairs and appearing through the door.

"Here's your tea", he heard her steps approaching the bed. She kept her eyes from his, and this time it was his heart that clenched in a wave of guilt.

"Listen Annora", she put the tea down despite his conversation starter, accompanied by a plate of chocolate muffins.

"Have a muffin, Charles always loved them", she whispered almost bitterly. His anger heated up and he snapped, grabbing her wrist, urging her to look at him.

"Annora"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry", her eyes expressed her shock which reflected his when he realised how rarely he apologised, the last time he said sorry flashed back into his mind.

_How is she? _

_She's dead._

_I'm sorry-_

_Sorry? I watched her burning to death as she sent me away, my village burning by your order, and you're sorry?! Well I'm all out of forgiveness 'father'!_

His eyes flashed back to Annora as she shook his arm gently.

"Are you okay?". He saw her eyes full of worry before him as she whispered gently. He reached out and suddenly let her fall into him all in a blur of motion. His arms held onto her waist delicately, still keeping some distance to make sure she doesn't get away. He didn't want her to. She was here while everyone he ever had were gone. His family, his accomplices, Ziio, even his own son could not see through his character, through his dedication to the order. But she was still here, and she was so young and fragile, so unaware. Unaware that she was caring for _him_. For a _monster_. A _tyrant_. He wanted to shout 'get away', 'don't get involved' before she became another victim. He didn't want her to suffer and despite his previous carelessness, he found himself comprehending the weight of the Templar path he took.

"I'm a beast", his whisper sounded more like a hopeless whimper, but she could still hear it. Confused, still lying motionlessly on his chest, she pushed herself on her palms and hovered over him. His wrinkles came on display again as he smiled sadly as she took note of every detail of his face, she would burn it into her memory so she would always remember him, even if he did _leave_. Her expression softened and she delicately rested her hands around his neck, pressing herself to him as carefully as possible, even if just for a few seconds, she wanted to feel him. Hear his heart beat, even if for the last minute or hour. His majestic and scarred heart beat, thudding like running horses, alive and free for the first time.

"I don't know what you're thinking, I don't know who you are but-", she took a heavy breath, holding back tears. "You're not a beast. No matter what you have done". His grip on her waist tightened and her breath hitched. "Now please, don't go, don't leave me, fight on", she lifted herself up again and gazed into his eyes remorsefully. "For me", she whispered, then, flushing at her own decision, reached out to place her lips on his grazed and unshaven cheek. His eyes closed peacefully and he loosened his grip.

"I will, I promise", he whispered weakly in her ear. She looked up and saw his extremely peaceful expression, just like the one she saw when he was locked up in his comatose state. A smile faded from his lips and his breathing became shallow as his eyes closed. She moved herself backward and rested the side of her face on his immaculate chest, feeling its softness on her cheek. She listened carefully and heard his heart beat, slow and quiet, but still beating strongly. She slipped off to the side of the bed and held his hand in hers, praying and pleading softly.

"Please fight on", she chanted before her eyes closed and she fell asleep, tears slipping down her rosy cheeks, her mind falling into a dream. One of the man next to her living on.

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Well that was emotional T.T... kind of. Tell me what you think and correct any of my mistakes (pretty please) :o by posting a review (do that if you liked the chapter too :3) **Thank you so much for reading! :)**


	3. III - Haytham

Hello!

**I want to thank all my readers, reviewers and followers, you really make all this worthwhile! **Here's another chapter, sorry if it drags on a bit, I really want to develop everything in the first chapters. Thank you for staying with me though, I promise I will make this story the best I can! :D

! AC 3 Ending Spoiler Alert !

Disclaimer: All characters (except Annora) **belong to Ubisoft**, as do the cover images.

_III - Haytham - After Haytham survives the night, Annora attempts to get to know him, both of them struggling with a growing attraction towards each other._

**I hope you enjoy this one! ^^ - _AssassinSuzy_**

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**_III_**

_'The only difference, Connor – the ONLY difference between myself and those you aid, is that I do not feign affection.'_

___Tuesday 18th Sept_

His eyes opened and were instantly blinded by the incoming light from the window opposite the bed. The scorching sun was high up in the sky, it was about midday, and the crystal blue sky seemed completely clear of any clouds.

"Annora", her name rolled off his tongue in a whisper. He propped himself up with the little strength he gained and turned his eyes to her sleeping form. Her breathing was slow and deep and her silky golden hair fell over her shoulders. He laid his head back down, already exhausted from raising himself up.

"I'm getting old", he chuckled quietly, not wanting to wake her up. He struggled to lay on his right arm in order to face her small figure, desiring to watch her calm expression. It took him a few minutes but he finally managed to rest on his arm, finally having the chance to take a good look at her. His eyes softly traced her innocent face, the softness of her cheeks and the red shade that settled onto them. She suddenly started to tremble in her sleep, possibly as a result of a bad dream, and a tear rushed down her cheek staining it. She whimpered and he reached his other arm out, placing his large hand on her shoulder, nudging her gently. When she wouldn't settle, he shook her, to no avail. Finally her crying got louder and he began to get frustrated. He gathered his strength and lifted himself up, getting on top of her and shaking her with his hand again, this time more frantically, propping himself up on one elbow for support.

"Annora! Wake up!"

"No!", she screamed and her eyes bolted open in pure terror, meeting a pair of dark orbs staring right at her. The last of her tears slid down her cheeks and her breathing slowed down, her heart however still beating like a drum and ringing in her ears. They stared at each other for a few more seconds before she let her cheeks turn a hue of magenta, embarrassed by her own actions.

"I'm sorry", she mumbled.

"Why are you apologizing?", she turned her head to the side in further embarrassment, unintentionally displaying the pale flesh of her neck to him. His eyes lurked down, turning an even darker color as they inspected her skin and started to lust after it within mere seconds while she silently questioned why she laid beside him instead of the floor or her own bed. She dismissed the thought though, instead realizing how he miraculously recovered over the night.

"You're still alive", her voice came out as almost a gasp as she felt his warm breath on her neck, sending shivers down her spine as she struggled to mask her attraction to him and it's effect on the ever-changing shade of her face. She was never good at hiding her feelings, especially with men she found extremely handsome, such as the man hovering over her, and... She paused, her thoughts stopping for a second.

Charles. He made her feel like this, many years ago, when her mother suggested _that_- but the sensation wasn't as strong as it is now. She's losing her breath at even the slightest contact of her and the strangers palms. A night watching over a – once deadly – stranger completely broke her defenses. She had to fix that, right after she stopped falling for said stranger.

"Too late", she whispered absent-mindedly.

"Too late for what?", his voice resounded inside her in rhythm with her heart beat. She realized what she said and her eyes widened anxiously, her mind processing the possible excuses she could come up with. She let out an awkward laugh.

"Too late... For breakfast!", she turned back to face him, he gave her a quizzical gaze.

"Indeed it is, it seems it's already midday", he lifted himself and crashed back onto the bed, incredibly tired from hovering over her. He began to sentimentally consider his response to the sight of her neck, his lips still tingling at the image of her soft skin.

"I'll make you something to eat", she murmured and gave him a quick smile before slipping off the bed and walking towards the stairs.

"Thank you", he smiled with as much sincerity as he could show. She nodded her head and skipped downstairs. She reminded herself to ask his name later on while making him something to eat from the food that was left. She hasn't been to the market for a few days now, and another addition to the household will limit the supplies furthermore. She sighed, suddenly gritting her teeth in pain. She held onto her finger in desperation and agony, feeling blood running down from the cut.

"Ow, ow, ow", she repeated stopping herself from violently cursing. She ran over to grab a spare cloth and tied it around her finger, praying that it would stop bleeding, "I have had enough of blood and gore for a years worth!". She decided to use her other hand, wanting to avoid accidental contamination of the food with her blood, especially now that the man _seemed _to be recovering. Half an hour later or so she rushed back up the stairs with the food, noticing the man staring at the ceiling, thinking things over, probably figuring out why he is still alive.

"What happened to your hand?", he inquired when he saw her place the plate on the bedside table. She followed his gaze to look back at the slightly blood stained cloth wrapped around her fingers.

"Nothing, just cut my finger with the knife, it's nothing really"

"It's still bleeding though"

"Its fine, I'll be fine"

"Let me see it"

"No, you can't come into contact with open wounds"

"If I survived the night I'll be alright, let me see it"

"But-"

"Let me check the damn finger Annora", he shouted. She was startled but, something told her he wasn't angry, he was just frustrated. She uncovered the finger, her soft skin cut open quite badly, blood still dripping from it.

"What were you trying to do?", he chuckled, acting as if he was her father. Even _reminding _her of her father.

_"Let me see the damn knee Annora"_

_"What were you trying to do climbing a tree like that?!"_

"Annora", he asked again, noticing how dazed she was. She looked him in the eyes and blushed realizing she wasn't listening.

"Pardon me", she noticed his puzzled expression, "what?"

"I was just asking if you have any alcohol I could clean the cut with"

"There should be some in the kitchen, I'll bring it"

"Do bring a bandage as well"

She was gone and back within minutes and sat down on the her own bed opposite his, attempting to clean the wound herself.

"What are you doing?", he gave her another annoyed gaze.

"I'm-"

"Come here, I'll do it", he motioned her forward with one hand as he carefully sat up.

This time she listened and meekly sat next to him. He reached for some alcohol and poured it over her finger making it sizzle, just like his wounds did the day before, reminding her of everything. However this time she felt the pain, and it intensified when the memories of the night flooded her mind. She whimpered helplessly in torment, her eyes shutting and eyebrows furrowing.

"Shh", he hushed her and grabbed her waist with one hand, bringing her closer to him in an attempt to calm her down. Her cheeks flushed again and she forgot the pain the moment she remembered he was there with her. He took the bandages and carefully tied them around the finger.

"This should stop the bleeding"

"Thank you", she smiled softly. He took her hand and stared into her eyes, pressing his heavenly lips to the top of her injured finger, then pressing a few more kisses to her other fingers one by one while still gazing deeply into her shimmering eyes. Her cheeks heated up like fire and she felt a knot tie in her stomach, feeling an altogether different type of hunger. A hunger for him. He really was her ecstasy and it was so obvious, even if she tried denying it.

"It was a _pleasure_", he stressed the word sending another wave of shivers down her hand and arms, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Why? Why was she acting, feeling like this? Why was her reaction so strong she couldn't breathe?

"You should have something to eat", she murmured, struggling to push the oncoming questions away. Failing to stop her heart beat increasing, and her reaction becoming so uncontrollable. 'Don't let yourself go insane over a man you've known for less than two days', she chanted in her head. Nevertheless she thought her heart was still with Charles, even if words of what had happened were never exchanged or her feelings for him mutual. At least that _was _the impression he gave her.

"Do you have anywhere to go after you recover?", she asked. Maybe ridding herself of his presence when the time was right would prevent herself from thinking she felt anything for him. Anything at all. He gazed up at her, and then thought for a second.

"I'm not trying to get rid of you!", she hastily added, "I just want to make sure you will have somewhere safe to go if you had to leave". He looked back down at the plate from which he was eating, he had nowhere. London, that was his only option, but he had to organize transport first, and send a letter to his superiors. A letter stating his failure in finding the the key to the Temple. His expression sunk angrily.

"Any family? Anyone you could turn to? Anyone at all?"

"No, no one at all Annora", he admitted bitterly.

"Oh", she let out a puff of air. Her heart sunk just slightly and she avoided eye contact in case she had the instant urge to grab his arms and tie them around her, comforting him, saying that he isn't alone-

"I established my order here, but every one of its most powerful members perished in the span of what?", he lashed out, directing her attention back to him, "Ten, twenty years?"

"I-"

"All by the blade of my own son! My own flesh and blood!"

Her eyes turned to him, filled with new-found courage and she grabbed his arm, snapping him out of his ferocious rant. He suddenly looked back at her, noticing her slightly frightened reaction. His gaze softened and he tugged at his temples with his other hand, blinking a few times.

"I apologize"

"It's alright", she murmured. He smiled at her while she patted his arm soothingly. "You don't want to get really angry though, it affects your health", she added.

"I really appreciate what you have done for me", he handed the plate back to her. She took it from him along with the rest of the plates and stood up, carefully placing them in a pile on the bedside table. "I should recover soon".

"No, please don't get the wrong idea", she waved her hands about getting his attention, he chuckled quietly under his breath at her reaction. "I'm not suggesting you have to leave, of course not!", she pushed the armchair towards the bed and sat in it, looking down at her red and tired hands. "I'm not cruel like that, I can't leave an injured man out on the streets, I just wanted to know if you had anyone you could notify of what has happened, anyone except Charles...", she trailed off lovingly on his name, the man sensing something wasn't right.

"You seem to know Charles very well", the question caught her off guard and she shot him a surprised look. She shook her head, wanting to avoid a lie, but at the same time not wanting to tell the truth.

"It's all in the past now, I wouldn't appreciate it if we discussed it now", she expected the man to press the matter on, but to her surprise he answered in a polite and gentle, understanding manner, causing her to breathe out a relieved sigh.

"Of course, I don't want to upset you"

"Thank you"

"No need, you wouldn't want to share your past, whatever it might have been, with a complete stranger, I fully understand", he smiled at her once again, "My order also requires me to keep to a very strict amount of secrecy". She knew, after all, Charles was always very secretive, he never shared his 'Templar' secrets. Even with her. But she didn't want to meddle in his affairs anyway, he didn't want to risk her safety. She stared at the pile of plates awkwardly.

"I can imagine", she laughed softly and began a moment of silence, unsure of what to say next. He shuffled in the bed, and she reached her hands out to adjust his pillow, still offering him her soft smile.

"Get some rest, I'll write a letter to Charles explaining your recovery and send it off today", the man nodded apprehensively. And then when she was just about to leave, he called out her name, causing her heart to rise to her throat again.

"Annora"

"Yes?", she turned around to face him again.

"I am forever in your debt", he said smoothly, with a hint of honesty lurking around in that one sentence. She nodded, smiling, and then remembered.

"I never had the chance to ask your name, sir"

"Haytham. Haytham Kenway". The name repeated itself a few times in her mind. Such a beautiful name, it sounded British, and came off the tongue softly and sensually. Almost poetically.

"Haytham", she repeated. He smiled at her, for some reason feeling happy when she spoke out his name, desiring her to say it over and over again.

"I'm, as you know, Annora. Collet", she added, trying to somehow familiarize herself with this stranger using names, as if starting anew; without all the pain, injuries and an evening spent crying over his life.

"Do you... Know it's meaning?", he asked. She nodded her head and walked towards the stairs, leaving him confused, and her name shrouded in mystery. Her steps were soon heard and she was gone, leaving him tired, sleepy and very much intrigued.

* * *

A rather mysterious ending indeed! Please review + follow (if you haven't yet) if you like the story! **Thank you very much for reading! :3**


	4. IV - I'm Not Myself

Hello once again!

**Thank you to everyone who's following this story and to all those who have left a review/favorite! **This chapter is a bit longer, due to some _(hopefully) _interesting character development going on! Hopefully it feeds you all with the romance and drama you desire :D

! AC3 Ending Spoiler Alert ! Disclaimer: All characters (except Annora) **belong to Ubisoft**, as do the cover images.

_IV - I'm Not Myself - Charles journeys to Monmouth to visit Annora and Haytham. Meanwhile, Annora gives into herself and breaks the rules, Haytham discovering another side of who he thought himself to be, both realizing life will never be the same._

**This in my opinion is quite an emotional chapter! I hope you enjoy! :3 - _AssassinSuzy_**

* * *

**_IV_**

___'He will wait. He will watch. And then – when he's seen all his life's work brought to ruin... Only then will I allow him to die.'_

_Wednesday 19th Sept_

"Sir! Sir"

"What?", his dark eyes turned to the guard standing before him, the dark orbs full of hate and anger.

"I was told to deliver this letter to you from the local mail carrier", he backed away in fear, stretching out his hand which held a small envelope. Charles aggressively snatched the letter away and waved his hand around.

"You are dismissed", his deep voice resounded around the tavern he was sitting in. He grabbed a small knife and cut through the seal hastily, without mercy, grabbing the piece of paper out of it, almost ripping it up. His expression however, instantly shifted when he recognized the quick and elegant handwriting.

"Annora", he whispered, his lips turning into a smile for the first time this week. His eyes traced over the text, reading it carefully.

'_Dear Charles, the man you have brought to me, Haytham Kenway, was seen by the doctor you have sent the same day. He was only given a short time to live, but, somehow he made it through the night and now seems to be recovering well. He eagerly ate the food I have prepared him but is ultimately bed-ridden due to his still weak body. Of course it will take a long time to recover from such wounds but I hope you will arrive soon so you two can talk. He has also told me that..._', his eyebrows turned into a frown, knowing she would eventually find out.

'_You are going to be targeted as well and will most likely be killed. Please, make haste on your journey here as I am sure you are staying nearby. I would not appreciate anything unfortunate happening to you. Stay safe Charles, Annora Collet_'.

She always had a way with words that softened his rock hard heart. She was worried for him, honestly and frantically worried, as she was never so forward before, a clear sign that something was wrong. Something was lifted off his heart as he learnt of Haytham's recovery, and he felt the urge to read over the words again to confirm that it was true and not just a hallucination, or his mind playing tricks on him. He lifted the letter up to his lips and closed his eyes for a moment, clearing his head.

"If things were different, my dear Annora, I would have said yes", he whispered under his breath, his mind going back to that time.

"Sir, it would be better to leave now", the guard came back towards him, causing Charles to shove the paper into his chest pocket, close to his heart, and raise himself up from the wooden chair.

"Yes, I have a different destination in mind though", he announced and the guard nodded, following in his quick steps out of the tavern. They both stepped into the carriage waiting for them outside.

"Where to Sir?"

"Monmouth, I'll give you directions when we get there", he propped his elbow up and gazed out of the small window. "How long will the journey take?"

"We will unfortunately have to stay at an inn for the night, we will arrive in Monmouth about early morning tomorrow", the guard answered.

"It's Wednesday the 19th today", he thought whether it was worth it, and whether he had more important issues to sort out. He closed his eyes, imagining all the things he had to get done. But, Annora was his priority now.

"That's fine, let us be off"

"Yes Sir", the horses neighed and began walking through the always busy streets of New York. He will be with her, and he won't get that pest of a boy Connor get in the way, he will not die. Not by his hand.

* * *

_Later that day_

"These muffins of yours are fantastic", he took another one-off the plate. She smiled thankfully, loosening her guard around him once again. Charles used to love them as well she thought for a second before pushing the memories away.

"Thank you, my Father always told me to bake them more often, my whole family liked them, they are made using my secret recipe", she replied quietly, tugging her a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Haytham noticed he touched upon a sensitive subject of hers.

"You should share the recipe with me, they would be famous little things back in London", he tried to get off the family subject, which she gladly appreciated.

"No you silly! It wouldn't be secret then would it?"

"Then you'll have to come with me", the words came out before he could stop them, and then realized all the possible outcomes of saying such a thing, consequences he had to accept as he had no ideas for an excuse. She turned her eyes away and an adorable blush came over her cheeks, her lips pursing together, unsure of what to say. She raised herself up and took the empty plates and cups. She turned to him and gazed into his eyes, his expression melting even more. He never enjoyed being with someone as much as he did with her, he had no idea what was going on inside him, but whatever it was he liked it, remembering the last time he felt like this. _Ziio._

"I-I may consider that, one day", she muttered quietly. His eyes looked up in surprise, and something lit up inside him, she wanted to. She _wanted_ to go with him.

"I would very much like that Annora", he replied with a smile to die for. Her heart melted and she nearly tripped earning a gasp from him. She quickly regained her balance, not wanting to embarrass herself furthermore, and certainly not wanting to make her reaction as obvious as it already was. A new life in a different country seemed a very adventurous move, especially for an unemployed middle-class woman.

"Please rest Haytham", his name brought his eyes to look up into hers, a worried expression painted all over her face, "It's getting late".

"Will you stay here with me?", he asked. She was stunned by his words again, her heart skipping another beat. The smell of muffins still lingered in the air while the sky dyed itself a deep navy shade, small stars presenting themselves, almost hidden by the few dark clouds that drifted along the horizon.

"Of course, my bed is just there anyway so-"

"With me", he had no idea what he was saying any more. He just went along and probably for the first time in his life he let his heart guide him, instead of his head.

"Pardon?"

"Lay those plates down there", he pointed, she did as she was told, avoiding sparking up some sort of argument, following his orders like a puppet on strings.

"Now come here", he reached his hands out. She followed and sat by his side shifting the weight on the bed. Slightly confused, but as if under a spell, she let him tie his arms around her waist and force her to lay down beside him.

"We can't Haytham", she hastily muttered, heeding her mothers warnings. His power over her was too strong though.

"I'm not asking you for much, just lay by me, like last night".

"I'm only doing this because you're ill and need comfort, right?", she wanted him to agree, freeing her of feeling guilty or dishonored. He saw through her caution and eagerly nodded, smiling and even faking a cough.

"Yes of course", he agreed and coughed again causing her to laugh good-heartedly. His arms were still around her small waist, and she couldn't help but feel as if this _happiness _of some sort was only temporary, as if he would disappear like her Father did. She shut her eyes shaking her head, while he watched her battle herself in an internal conflict. She eventually sighed, giving into herself, _appreciate what is before you before it disappears_. And so her small palms landed on his chest, moving just slightly across it, feeling the fine flesh react under her touch-

"Annora", his voice broke her exploration, her cheeks heating up and her heart clenching with embarrassment at what she was letting herself do. She looked up to see his eyes, which now looked considerably darker than before, darker with what seemed to be desire, staring right into hers. She let her own eyes fall to his lips, forgetting everything for a moment. She moved herself upwards slowly, her eyelids hiding her emerald eyes, knowing fully well how much her body, if not her heart, wanted his lips on hers this instant.

"Haytham", her voice was barely a whisper, cut off by his breathing as they neared each other, _so close_. _Too close_, but it felt so good to break the rules. To act out of character, out of her shell of loneliness and shyness.

"Haytham", she tried whispering again, but this time only a breath escaped as his lips landed on hers, his eyes closed, hinting satisfaction and his eyebrows furrowing, indicating how he had waited to feel her lips against his. He wanted this since he laid eyes on her last night. But it seemed things were moving too fast, too fast for their own good. He would never do something like this, it was _her_ that affected him so much, that lit something inside him. His lips hastily caressed hers with desperation and passion, passion which she never felt before. She grabbed onto his neck with one hand, and then reached out to tug at his hair as he deepened the kiss even further. This could not be avoided, it would have happened sooner or later, would it not? The trance suddenly broke, her hands landed on his chest again and pushed him away softly, breaking the string of emotions and desires all in a matter of seconds. They stared at each other ambivalently. It was wrong, she felt as if she just grabbed forbidden fruit in handfuls straight off the tree – even if it tasted so wonderfully – 'it was still wrong!' she screamed in her mind. But her heart reacted differently, beating like it never had before, blood rushing up to her cheeks and to parts of the body she never even thought about. She wanted to continue, but she knew she couldn't.

"I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry"

Both of their voices escaped in unison, both of them knowing the apology was a complete lie. If Charles found out he-he would be enraged, and Annora knew that very well, bringing up that old rope of memories from the past. She had no intention of falling for someone after what had happened, especially not someone like Haytham. He was different, he was a respected older gentleman, she wasn't in the right mind to even lay beside him, to even look him in the eyes. But she did it anyway. They stared at each other for a few seconds while she persuaded herself that she was not falling for anyone, she was stronger than that, she would not give in to her mothers words. The words of a woman bound to her husband, forced to give her daughters away to strangers in exchange for land or money. She would never become like that wicked woman, she swore that to herself the day she ran away. But Haytham took control, like men do, he bewitched her, cast some sort of spell. She was already hurt enough before, she didn't want to feel the pain of a broken heart again. But, what if-

"I honestly apologize, it's my fault", Haytham shattered her thoughts, his deep voice suddenly causing her to jump.

"Yes, yes it is", she grasped onto the opportunity to once more feel independent, powerful and replace her guilt with an excuse, that it wasn't her but him. Which somehow gave her no evident satisfaction. He gave her an intrigued glance and then turned his eyes away, no doubt surprised at her reaction.

"Well if you excuse me, I will take up on your previous advice and get some rest"

"Indeed you should, sir"

"And so I will Miss", he got the better of her. She scoffed as she pushed herself from the bed, quickly stepping off it and proceeding to stand on her two feet. The tension of the rather awkward situation could be felt heavily sinking into the surroundings as she moved the armchair away, not turning to give him even one glance, exaggerating her lack of interest and how much she took offence in what had happened, or what he did to her, or rather what he allowed himself to take the blame for. He couldn't help but observe her with a smirk on his face, noticing how obvious her façade was becoming. How she was only _pretending_, battling with her inner self on whether she lost some of her feminine prowess by giving in to her obvious attraction for him. He chuckled, making fun of her in his own way. 'What a child', the thought crossed his mind, sending down another laugh to escape his lips.

But, she kissed with such haste, such desire. She kissed a stranger, who needed comfort and help. Help which he asked for, even after she expressed how she knew it wasn't right. She was the responsible one, he was the one who led her on, pushed her to take the leap. Maybe it _was _his fault after all. Guilt tugged at his heart at the realization, especially as he noticed how her eyes caught his while he was openly laughing at her, despite not even guessing how difficult it was for her, how grave a mistake it was for her. Her eyes quickly looked away while she took the empty stack of plates from the small wooden table, her expression hurt and sinking lower and lower to the floor. He really is a tyrant, the guilt clenching his heart even more, this might have been nothing to him considering how many women he has romanced with during his years but she, she was but a young maiden, in her what? Middle twenties? This was an actual leap of faith for her, kissing a stranger, maybe even going further minding how eagerly she responded. He could have taken advantage of the situation, taken _her_ then and , she was strong _enough _to resist her own desires, unlike him.

He covered his face with his hands, immersing himself in his own lack of compassion and utter idiocy, as she walked away. A tear stinging her eye, desperate to escape, followed by many more as she entered the kitchen. He mocked her, openly and without control or remorse, probably thinking how easy she was to lead on, how she would have eagerly given herself away like her whore of a mother. Just like her. She placed the plates on the wooden table by the fireplace, feeling the urge to smash them one by one. Her hand grasped for her forehead as a strike of pain hit her head. Another migraine? She sat on a wooden stool by the table and chucked down a glass of water, deciding on getting out of her house as fast as she could. Anywhere away from here was fine, anywhere away from _him_. That devil of a man. The man she could not help but think about every second since he arrived, his body, his expressions, the way he spoke, the person he was and his past. Everything invited her in like never before, never-mind Charles whom she thought she loved dearly, Haytham was making her go insane. What would happen if he stayed another day, another week or even month, she can't last two days without throwing herself at him, deceiving herself that it was just because he was ill, in need of comfort.

She slammed the door shut and stepped into the darkness of the evening, outside onto the pebble-stoned path. The sharp air immediately hit her burning cheeks, she reached her hands out grasping for it, as if it would save her. She ran across the path to the sea of trees surrounding the area. Monmouth, her home, it would not be the same now that he was here. The 'Grandmaster of the Templar's', she didn't realize before but with him, trouble was sure to follow. If he and Charles were targets, would she become one now? A sudden fear came over her and now even the trees which seemed to be following her caused her to tremble and stand still in caution. It would be a matter of days at most for the killer to find her home, to hurt her, to hurt Charles or to finish Haytham off. She didn't want that, she didn't want them getting hurt, she didn't want _him_ to get hurt. Despite Haytham's behavior, he did not deserve to die. But he would eventually, she had no way of countering a killer, she would never be able to fight. She sat down slowly and cautiously, gazing around before adjusting herself against the tree trunk. As if waiting for the murderer to jump down from the skies and rid her of her short life. A sudden crack filled the still air, and her heart beat literally stopped for a second, she clenched her cheap cotton dress in shock. Noticing it was just a twig, her breathing resumed, but her senses were still alert. She felt silly, even stupid for going out in the evening like that. If Haytham was here-

"No, he would not even care if something happened to me", but then she thought again, and the question ripped at her heart. "Or would he?", she rested her head against her arms, sighing heavily. "Probably because he is well-mannered he would care for any woman, _any _damsel in distress", her hand ripped out a nearby patch of grass, rubbing it in-between her fingers hopelessly. "Or because he's in my debt", she felt a cold tear escape her eye despite her protest. "Damn you Haytham", she cursed him for making her feel this way, for always being on her mind, in her thoughts. In her heart, her weak and fragile heart, hidden away under her obvious and fake mask, failing to protect her like she thought it would. It was all too late now.

_Too late to fall out of this mess._

* * *

His eyes could not shut and fall asleep like he was urging them to, he fell victim to human weakness. To emotions and compassion. To guilt and lust. Insatiable and ever-growing lust.

"Wicked woman", he muttered. Haytham could no longer wait for her, she decided to go on an evening stroll while his son lurks about God knows where searching for him. And now that she's involved, she'll become a victim as well. And that's the thing that eats at him the most, a young – rather beautiful – woman getting hurt all for unknowingly aiding a Templar, being a good and helpful person without desiring anything in return. Suffering because of him. He could stand it no longer and was now deciding whether to take the risk and go out looking for her, his legs were not injured, he could move, however he was very weak and would most likely collapse. But – he knew he would take the risk for her, she _saved _his life. It was her that allowed him to continue what he had hoped to achieve in America. Even if he failed, he was alive, there was a chance to reconcile the situation if he explained himself to the Templar's back in London. Suddenly he heard the heavy wooden doors downstairs creak open and shut. He prayed that it was her, that he did not have to go out wandering around this unknown area searching for her, her limp and lifeless body God forbid. He quickly dismissed the idea, his heart somehow clenching with joy at her safe arrival. He decided to pretend he was asleep, as to not get into another argument of some sort, and actually let her rest for once, she was, after all, busy taking care of him all day. He heard a few more steps downstairs, he could imagine her curvy figure moving around, doing what not. She was the _most_ beautiful woman he has _ever_ seen-

"Must keep quiet", he heard her whisper to herself as she made her way upstairs, falling for his act and thinking he was asleep. He could sense her scent, fresh from the forest, pass by him as she softly sat down of her own bed, opposite from his.

"I hope he's okay", another whisper. After all he has done, she still has the heart to worry about his well-being? A heart of forgiveness.

_I'm all out of forgiveness, father._

He heard the bed creak under her weight as she laid down, her breathing slow and calm. He turned in the bed for the sake of it and easily gained his ounce of satisfaction when she froze, afraid to wake him up by accident. He smiled as he saw her small form, covered in the thin sheets, in the faint light that was coming from the large and dreamy moon outside. Now that she was here, he felt a weight lifted from his heart and his whole tensed up body relaxed, allowing him to finally get some sleep without worrying sick for her safety. He let out a relieved sigh and looked at her for a few more seconds before falling asleep, hoping that he can reconcile with her and have a chance to apologize, or rather, have the courage to _honestly _say sorry.

* * *

What will Haytham do? Please review + favorite + follow (if you haven't already) and of course correct me if I made any mistakes ^^''

**Thank you for reading, till next time my friends! :)**


	5. V- I will Protect You

Hello! :)

**Thank you to all those who are following, reviewing and leaving a favorite.** It means a lot to me :) Hopefully you will enjoy this chapter as we discover more about Annora, her past and what role she will play in Haytham's future!

! AC3 Ending Spoiler Alert ! Disclaimer: All characters (except Annora and Marie) **belong to Ubisoft**, as do the cover images.

_V - I will Protect You - Annora and Haytham are visited by Annora's sister who stirs up trouble. Haytham's feelings for Annora grow while he gains her trust, her own past shining through as she has to deal with the painful memories that come back to haunt her._

**Hope you all enjoy! ;D - AssassinSuzy**

* * *

**_V_**

_'You oppose tyranny. Injustice. These are just symptoms. _

_Their true cause is human weakness. _

_Why do you think I keep on trying to show you the error of your way?'_

His eyes shifted from the window to the ceiling and back again. Charles was nervous about seeing Annora like he was never before. He was thinking of things he wanted to say to her, confessions and worries. How immensely he cared for her now that she wasn't safe with that bastard searching for Haytham. That he would return with her to England if she wanted to, end all this, escape. Be with her like she always wanted to. But what if he's too late? What if he has to work on gaining her trust again after what he has done to her? All he desired was her happiness, despite being a miserable and cruel man himself. He saw everything in a different light now, a new wave of regrets flooding him. He didn't know if it was a good decision to become a Templar, to risk losing everything in favor of a 'new world'. "I want you to be my new world Annora", he whispered as he turned in the uncomfortable bed. He would see her the next day, and right now, that was his only comfort among the midst of recent events. His only hope.

* * *

_Thursday 20th Sept_

A loud knock on the door awakened Annora the next morning, the light of the rising sun blinding her vision. Slightly startled, she quietly stepped off the bed, fearing the worst. She rubbed her eyes sleepily, noticing Haytham's peaceful form still slumbering deeply.

_"Haytham", she tried whispering again, but this time only a breath escaped as his lips landed on hers._

She bit down on her lips, yesterday's events coming back to her. Her heart began to ache.

_"I honestly apologize, it's my fault", Haytham shattered her thoughts, his deep voice suddenly causing her to jump._

_"Yes, yes it is"._

Another loud knock, this time more forceful, immediately dismissed Annora's thoughts. She made her way downstairs with added haste and soon enough reached the door, opening it ever so slightly.

"Ann? Can I come in?", a red-haired woman stood there, peeking in nervously, exchanging a rather worried glance with Annora who did not expect a visitor so early in the morning.

"Marianne? What- Why are you here? What's happened?"

"I need to talk, I won't be long", the woman spoke quietly, her eyes swollen and her skin pale. Annora let her into the house and they both sat on opposite armchairs, an unusually uncomfortable tension rising in the air.

"What's the matter?", Annora asked, her voice wavering with worry. Marianne was her older sister, who lived with her husband and five-year old son outside Valley Forge. She was the only one in the family who visited after Annora decided to become independent, _or rather_ when she decided to run away.

"I found out that Peter is cheating on me", the woman suddenly cried out. Annora's face instantly sank and turned to immediate anger and resentment.

"But you have a child right? Why would he do that?", when the woman didn't reply Annora reached out and eagerly held her sister's hand, who grasped at it in response, holding back her tears with her other hand. Her palms were dry and chapped, her overall state so much different from the perfect sister figure Annora grew so fond of.

"I don't know, he never said he was unhappy, he never told me anything!"

"Have you spoke to him about it?"

"Yes and he's denying it but my neighbour says she's been seeing him leaving late at night and meeting up with a woman right outside our house!", her words came out rushed while she flew her hands around to support her point.

"My goodness! That's outrageous! If I get my hands on that bastard I will-"

"I'm moving to Boston for now", Marianne stated plainly. Annora instantly shot her a surprised gaze. "I'm taking Ben and moving in with Mother", she finished. Annora's jaw dropped and her heart sank, she would leave her to go live with their mother, the only sister she had left that would bother visiting, providing her at least _some _company. Everyone was leaving her. She knew perfectly well that Marianne was hurt and wanted to get away from her husband but going as far as moving in with their mother was, it was the worst decision she could make. Their mother hated them. Well she hated Annora. Marianne could always stay with her and Haytham, who was probably staying for another few months, they would work it out somehow. There would be a way. There had to be.

"But- But-", Annora struggled to piece her words, "you could stay with me!"

"I thank you for the offer my dear sister but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I burdened you like that"

"You're not a burden, we would work some thing out right?"

"I'm sorry but I can't", the middle-aged woman replied sadly, Annora's heart sank even more, but suddenly rose when her sister gripped at her palm.

"Ann you should come with me, it's not good to live alone like this without anyone. Come with me please, I'm worried about you", concern was written all over her once pretty face, her red locks flowing to the side. But Annora snapped.

"You know I will never go back to that whore!"

"Annora please, just because she remarried-"

"She cheated on Father and you know it, that's why he left"

"You can't sit around alone all your life Annora, you're a woman for God's sake you just can't! And you know that damn well!" It all suddenly turned into a shouting match. Haytham, now awoken by all the noise, propped himself up, catching every word as it was thrown around.

"Father was everything to me, even if he was an Assassin, he still meant well"

"Mother felt neglected-"

"That's no reason to cheat on someone is it?"

"Being alone will be the end of you Ann!"

"Well why don't you end it all now seeing as my life is so worthless to you all?!", Annora shouted, her armor broken. Haytham gasped for air, knowing what was about to happen, he decided against his better judgement and hastily got himself up despite aching all over. He walked slowly while a mist of silence overcame the room downstairs, suddenly broken by the loud creaking of the stairs under the slow weight of Haytham's tired body. When he finally reached the room, in all his shirtless glory and only with his cotton underpants on, he earned the surprised gaze of the red-haired woman, which could not match the shock he received from Annora. He approached her and decided to put on the most believable act he could, tying his arm around her shoulders and nuzzling his lips in her neck, taking this chance to breathe in her sweet scent. Her cheeks instantly turned a shade of bright magenta and her breath hitched, stuck in her throat just like her heart. He looked over at the rather flustered red-head and gave her a lazy glance.

"What's all this noise for, _honey_?", he asked casually, referring to Annora, who was close to getting a heart attack. He suddenly spun her round and pressed her small body into his, and with him being much taller, he let her cheek rest against his chiseled chest. Confused and utterly flushed she went along with whatever was now going on, feeling the heat of his skin against her own as she readjusted herself into his protective embrace.

"Annora! You never told me you found yourself a man", Marianne laughed awkwardly and felt guilty from her previous accusations, just as Haytham planned. She bowed her head in all due respect noticing his much older age and he nodded back, reaching out to press a kiss to Annora's forehead, her cheeks burning like fire.

"I don't want you leaving the bed so suddenly", he purred, swaying her hips to the side sensually. She realized by now that he was acting for her sake, to save her from her sister and the conclusion of the argument. He did it for her. She reached up on her tiptoes and pressed her fiery lips to his cheek, feeling the rough texture graze her plump bottom lip. She kissed his cheek again and again, not wanting to stop, all the while throwing her sister a persuasive glance, but not wanting to go any further in case she lost control, using the situation as yet another excuse to touch him or kiss him. However he was satisfied with her expression of gratitude, his body tensing at their close contact, minding the _little _argument they had the day before. Her lips reached his ear and she whispered, "Thank you". He smiled and craned his neck down to feel her heavenly skin against his mouth, sending a shiver down her whole body, wanting to feel her before she would get out of his grip and escape back to her own world of manners and etiquette, something he began to forget the more time he spent with her. He was taking on his Father's personality, back when he was still a pirate on the Caribbean Seas.

"I'm sorry for intruding Annora, had I known- anyway I'll send you a letter when I arrive in Boston"

"Take care", Annora gasped, barely being able to answer her sister in a civilized manner as Haytham tugged at her ear with his lips violently, his large hands feeling the soft fabric she was wearing as they rested on her waist. He shot Marianne a warm smile and turned to her, Annora still tugged under his arm.

"Please stay! We could have some tea and a chat", he indicated to the armchair that she just got up from. Annora almost slapped him on his side, why would he want her to stay when he was trying to get her to leave a minute ago? Marianne gave them both an awkward glance and sat back down, feeling the pressure of Haytham's less than welcome stare.

"But _honey_", Annora almost spat in annoyance, "you have just recovered from that injury, you cannot go around walking with that weak body of yours!"

"I can perfectly manage actually", he turned to look at her, his eyes cold for the fraction of a second. She ushered him upstairs with her hands.

"Well if you want to _chat _so much, how about you put some clothes on?"

"I will", he muttered before disappearing up the stairs, Marianne immediately jumping up and grabbing Annora by the arm questioningly.

"What's his name then? Is it someone I know?", she asked as Annora got herself together and proceeded to making the tea. "He sounds British"

"Yes, he's not from around here actually", Annora kept her eyes away, heating the water up as Marie prepared three ceramic cups, knowing where everything was since she visited often, however not feeling as welcome as always now that she met Annora's _man_. "And no, he's not someone you know", Annora added quickly, avoiding her sister asking for any more information. She had to keep Haytham's identity a secret, no matter what.

Meanwhile, said man changed into his pants and shirt as quickly as his body allowed him to and looked around for his hair tie, the one he gave to Annora when her saw her the first time. Looking to the side he spotted her tiny vanity table made of dark ebony. It had a circular mirror attached and was carved with intricate details which he did not have a chance to observe closely. Looking down he saw a small wooden frame resting upon the surface with an even smaller painting inside it, in detail depicting a younger girl with her father, a prominent and good-looking man. A white cape was thrown around his shoulder, its corner depicting the Assassin insignia. He could guess the girl was Annora, her features were painted with such fine detail and accuracy, a wide smile gracing her young face. Almost reminding him of the paintings hanged in his mansion back in London, the paintings of his Father and his sister Jenny, still young and alive.

"I never saw such a small painting", he whispered to himself. Hanging on the frame was his maroon hair tie. Knowing he was probably taking too long, he tied his hair and checked himself in the mirror, making sure he undid just enough shirt buttons to look as if he wasn't yet sober, and after a good night spent with Annora. He wanted to dwell on that rather attractive thought a little longer but knew there were matters to attend to, and hastily approached the staircase where he could hear the spark of another argument lit up by Annora's rather intrusive sibling. Without making a sound, he stood and listened.

"As secretive as always Annora, just like Francis"

"Father would turn in his grave at your lack of respect and incompetence!", Annora hissed. She turned to her sister who gave her a loud smirk.

"He was one good Assassin, shame he had no son, maybe then someone would continue his rather flawed _legacy_", she spat in hate. Annora fumed and was at the point of no return.

"You dare to enter his house and throw around remarks of shame and dishonor? You are his daughter Marie!", she came up close to her while Haytham went down a few steps to get a better look. "You should never forget your place!"

"You know perfectly well why our whole family despised him, he would leave us for months on end without even a goodbye Annora, don't you remember?"

"The responsibility of a great _leader_ and a great _man_, honored by his inferiors and never once looked down upon by his superiors", Annora came close to her sister's face, eyes dark in pure fury and hostility. Haytham watched and nodded from the stairs, discovering Annora's other side. The side of a born Assassin. Her father's true legacy. If he trained her, who would she become?

"He was born an honored man, and was killed an honored man. So don't you lecture me about legacies or skills", she grabbed for the nearby knife, the clacking of metal prompting Haytham to come down the stairs to witness Annora during her most vengeful moment yet. Her sister's eyes grew in horror, her expression shifting from her previous cocky demeanor to one of the weak prey, being cornered in a dark alley, cowardice shining through. "Or I swear to God you will end up in the grave with that whore of a mother and all your dear sisters", Annora's teeth gritted and she lifted the knife up, Haytham knowing she had perfect control, using the weapon skilfully to threaten her _target_.

"You are a monster Annora, a threat to us all, we can all now see where Father's training really got you", her sister, flinching at the sight of the sharp object, spat out in disgust.

"I suggest you leave dear sister, and never, _ever_, come to see me again"

"Rot in hell with all your Assassin and Templar friends Annora", she turned back to walk towards the door, with added haste. Annora was just about to throw the knife but the Templar stepped in and grabbed her arm, urging her to lay down the weapon, now fully knowing the consequences of killing another person out of hate or duty. He didn't want her to be burdened by the guilt for all of her life.

"Leave the ones who believe more in words rather than actions, justice will face them one day", he said as they both on looked her exit, the doors slamming shut behind her, a deadly silence filling the air.

A loud crash of metal turned his gaze to the woman beside him, the knife falling out of her small palm helplessly, tears streaming down her face, her power gone within seconds and her hand latched onto her chest in shock. He noticed how pale she was and how she trembled, her legs about to give way. He suddenly grabbed her and crashed to the floor with her as she fell to her knees. He completely ignored the pain he felt when they crashed to the hard wooden floor, she was the one he wanted to protect instead of himself, for what seemed like the first time. She covered her face with her palms, whimpering like a lost child in the woods.

"Ann-", he whispered but didn't have a chance to finish as she threw herself into his chest in despair, her fingers clutching at his shirt, soaking it with her stream of tears, her breathing quick and jagged. He tied himself around her protectively, pressing her further into his tight embrace, finding himself completely focused on having this strong woman under his wing.

"I nearly- I-", he heard her mutter through tears, "I just wanted to protect Father"

"I know you did", he soothed her hair with one hand, his voice smooth and gentle, "I'm here". He hushed her, somehow reducing the outburst of despair to quiet whimpering. He felt her fingers trace his collarbone as she spoke against his bare skin.

"I'm sorry", she whispered. He reached out to lift her chin up so their eyes could meet. His thumb brushed her cheek, stopping a tear in its tracks.

"Whatever for?", he asked, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Her eyes gazed into his and she swore she saw a gleam of sympathy in his deep eyes, which were always a perfect brew of pale green and hazel. She shook her head and smiled back, realizing he was there for her, he _understood_.

"Thank you", she replied instead. He caressed her cheek with the back of his ageing hand and she closed her eyes, embracing this moment.

"I will always be here", he whispered. She smiled, a rosy color appearing on her cheeks.

"Haytham", she looked up as his eyes caught hers at the quiet mention of his name and suddenly she crashed her lips to his for a few blissful seconds to his own shock and confusion, he quickly caught her lips after she let go, covering her soft mouth with his in a fit of desire. She felt his tongue brush her bottom lip but pushed him away before she lost control, gazing into his eyes painfully as if to say 'everything at it's own pace Haytham'. He pressed her to his chest and closed his eyes, disappointed but at the same time glad that she was the one who kissed him. Glad that there was something more. He couldn't help but swear to himself, _I will protect you. You who had saved me._

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Hope you liked it! Please leave a fave and/or a review if you did! Thank you for reading :3

**Till next time!**


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